*CONTENT WARNING, MATURE SCENES ARE DEPICTED - TRIGGER WARNING SA/R*PE IS MENTIONED*
This chapter is quite long-winded, I apologise in advance. I feel as though I ramble sometimes. I'm a little delayed in updating because I was about 5000 words in and my wifi cut out, my last save was at around 2000 words, I nearly cried and had to type it all over again from memory. I hope it's somewhat enjoyable and not too disjointed now! I have an idea of where I want the next chapter to head but I'm scared to take the plunge, I understand it to be a widely discussed fan theory and I would hate to anger/upset people so I don't know whether I'll do it, give me some hints if you'd like or dislike a strayed path. Also, it's worth noting that for my fic, Cersei is roughly 16-20 weeks pregnant. Thanks for reading!
He explained to her in as much detail about Jon's imminent arrival as he could, as expected she hadn't taken the news well. A great deal of insults were hurled, mostly about Tyrion but luckily he'd escaped the room before she started her tirade of abuse. Exactly why Jaime had warned him away. In the hours since then, he'd managed to calm the situation and once again re-convinced her that Tyrion had not betrayed them but in fact saved them. For a second time. They remained cooped in the refuge of the room, the eyes outside of this safe space were too many and the risk too high. Bronn was keeping them here, yes. But hospitably? No, not at all. It was a case of get your own food, your own drink - which he was totally reluctant to share - and tend to your own needs. Honestly, Cersei hadn't minded so much. She was more untrusting than ever now and the less people she had to deal with, the better. Especially with the sort of company Bronn kept.
"That's not too warm?" She asked him as she ran her fingers gently through the water, her voice smooth like honey. The large in-ground bath was filled to the halfway mark. His wound couldn't be completely submerged, just gently cleansed with a wet sponge, so he'd have to make do with his upper body being neglected by the piping water.
"The warmer, the better." Flinching at his own actions, he stopped pulling the bandages for a brief moment. The wound was deep and long, the sewn skin looked as angry as ever. Clean and much less infected, but still angry. "Bloody Greyjoy cunt." He muttered angrily under his breath, jumping slightly when he felt her warm fingers brush at his lacerated skin, assessing it for herself. The bath was filled and steaming. The blue veined, white marble tiles underfoot and climbing the walls were coated in condensation, only adding to the warm sticky environment. It was nearing late afternoon and the sun was beginning it's journey downwards in the sky, accompanied by a flurry of clouds that threatened a light shower. Tyrion had still not returned but Jaime had half expected him to show up drunk and staggering any moment.
"Euron did this?" Her question caught him off guard as he started peeling the last of the silk away from his body. But he couldn't answer her for fear of growing angry, he took Tyrion's words from earlier quite seriously and would prefer there to be no arguing tonight. "Jaime?"
"It doesn't matter who it was, they're dead now." He finally pulled the silk away, the final part had been clinging to his weeping wound. The look in her eyes told him she knew exactly what had happened. "He got in my way and all I cared about was getting back to y-." Before he could finish his sentence, she snaked her hand around the back of his neck and pulled him down to her lips passionately. He verbalised his surprise with an audible grunt. Their mouths and tongues joined in a rush as she sensually nipped at his lower lip with her teeth before releasing and pulling back a fraction. He pressed his forehead to hers, nuzzling into her, not quite satisfied with where the embrace had stopped. She was directly in front of him, her palms running up his sides now, careful not to be too rough over his sewn wound. She could feel his hand on her hip whilst the golden paw rested symmetrically on the other one. Gently, he was pulling her into him with an insatiable hunger. The pair of them were breathing faster with arousal before she fluttered her eyes open and her silken voice rippled between them.
"The water's getting cold." She moved her hands from his sides, up over his front to land on his pecs before pushing herself away from him delicately. Stepping aside, she motioned to the bath as he tried to recover. He couldn't lie, that felt extremely nice but the thought of a clean, hot bath was rather exciting too at this point. He stole one more kiss before dropping his trousers and ever so slowly climbing into the bath after removing his golden hand. She hated seeing it like that but tonight she was going to love every part of him. It was far better than he could have imagined. For him and for her. She enjoyed the sight from behind as he lowered himself into the water with a satisfied sigh.
"Why didn't we have baths like this in Casterly Rock?" He asked, thoroughly enjoying the set up. It was deep, taking hours to fill, but around mid-thigh height there was a sitting ledge that ran all the way around on each of the four sides, allowing him to sit with his back against the wet tiles. The water stopped at his waist and just under his wound, still lapping at his skin from his movements. He began to enjoy it even more when he felt the breeze of her robe hitting the floor behind him. A sense of panic was still present though. "Cersei, what are you doing?" He asked quickly but she could hear the excitement mixed in with fear. His eyes watching her intently as she moved around to the side and stepped in to join him. "Tyrion could be back any moment." He tore his eyes from her naked, glorious body as she finally reached him and chose to seat herself across his lap, straddling his hips carefully. He was anxiously studying the archway leading back to the bed chambers, convinced they'd be seen.
"I don't care." She declared softly, her front was almost flush with his as she smoothed her hands up and down his chest affectionately. Her knees resting on either side of his thighs. "Let him see." His eyes darted across hers, his breath quickening at the mere feeling of her sat over him the way she was. Her breasts met his chest for only a brief moment as she reached for the sponge on the side of the bath by his head.
Slowly soaking it in the water, she squeezed it out and started gently patting it over his aggravated, sewn skin. His brow furrowed and a small hiss escaped him as he jolted at the pain. Soothing it away, she planted her lips on his so gently he felt as though they barely touched but only left him desperate for more when she retreated. The eye contact they shared was far more intimate than ever before. Inches from one another's faces, each small movement she made over his lap whilst she wiped at his injured rib cage was unintentionally more arousing than the last. Her right hand found it's way to his neck, her fingers grazing at the nape, entangled in his once golden hair whilst her thumb rested just behind his earlobe. Kissing him again, he couldn't stop his eyes from closing this time, relishing the taste of her but the pressure on his burning flesh invited him to growl into the lip lock before jerking his head back, his good hand immediately grabbing at her fingers rinsing his injury. The pained look on his face was a good mix of agony and growing arousal, he just didn't know which one to feel more strongly and why they felt so good to be experienced at the same time. Letting go of her hand, she continued for only a few more seconds before placing the sponge back on the side of the bath. Once again, as she did so, her front pressed up against his, the warm of her skin transferring and increasing the friction between their lower halves. She felt him exhale painfully into her breast before sliding back down to be seated on him once more. The speed of his breathing had altered somewhat, his eyebrows still pulled heavily downwards as he struggled to keep his eyes from closing blissfully.
"Whatever happens tomorrow." She whispered softly, her green eyes moving across his ecstasy tainted face. "I don't want the last man inside me to have been a Dothraki savage." Her words were uttered delicately yet firmly, clearly stating her desires. "I want it to be you." She switched her hands around, her left now cupping at his neck, splashing droplets down his shoulder whilst the right travelled below the surface of the water, stroking at him where he ached so much to be stroked. "My lover, my brother." His head dropped back instantly, his lips parting as his breathing hitched. Each panted breath held a small amount of sound, soft groans which grew into fruition as the furrow in his brow deepened with her rocking. He could feel her nipples teasing at his flesh lightly with each gentle buck of her hips. He closed his mouth to stifle his soft and euphoric moans, only opening his eyes to move his good hand to grip at her waist. The right one could do nothing but rest symmetrically on the other side, out of instinct. This time he initiated a kiss, a hungry one. Pulling her even closer to him, he wrapped the entirety of his left arm around the small of her back and held her close. Finally a mewl of pleasure escaped her too, vibrating into his lips as their tongues became reacquainted.
"Stop." He pulled away suddenly, his breath heavy with seduction but he was concerned she was doing this for the wrong reasons. Because she thought he was still mad about the Euron Greyjoy situation - which he undoubtedly was - but since then, he too had also been unfaithful. "You don't have to do this because of Eur-"
"No, you're right." She cut him off, kissing him slowly, his eyes remained open this time as he tried to keep his gaze fixed on her. "I don't have to, but I want to." Studying her for a few short seconds once she'd pulled away, he concluded that she was speaking honestly. Smiling up at her, he moved his hand out from the water to hold her face sweetly. Who was he to tell her no? Cersei always got what she wanted, sooner or later.
Jaime thanked the Gods that their passionate bath time tryst hadn't been interrupted by their younger brother. The twins now lay naked and sprawled in the bed beneath the fur throw, Cersei fast asleep on her side whilst Jaime could do nothing but watch her. A custom of his after they'd had sex. He just liked to look at her, she always looked peaceful when sleeping. Like all of her cares and worries had vanished. If that could truly be the case when she woke too, Jaime would do anything to make that happen. She'd turned to face the other way moments ago, the throw only covering her lower half and front as she hugged it close. Her bare back from the hips upward now lay before him, her skin soft and glowing under the candle light. The bruises were still visible, an awful shade of green and yellow with age. The one in the middle of her spine to one side was the worst, the mark of the Dothraki rider's foot as he'd kicked her down. His hands had left their marks almost indefinitely too, still dark black and purple around her neck and wrists. Jaime felt those ones would take a long while to fade. Tearing his eyes away from her, he looked ahead towards the balcony. It was still open, the wind was whipping in violently and the earlier showers that only threatened to fall were now hitting the ground full force. Mother Nature's wrath. The sun had retired a long while ago, the moon now high in the sky, illuminating the still and eerie world below.
Sighing softly to himself he sat up against the headboard slowly so as not to wake her, the throw still adequately covering his nether regions. He still hadn't re-dressed his wound, maybe some air would do it good? Glancing down at it he could almost feel the heat radiating from the sewn skin. It was partially a nice feeling as the room was getting colder by the minute. They'd both run themselves hot from fucking in the heated bath water but he felt a fire was needed now. Imagining back to their days at the Rock, somebody would have been in to light it for them as soon as the temperature had dropped. The amount of help they had there was borderline ridiculous and it always made it difficult to get in some alone time with his sister for fear of being seen or walked in on. The same way they'd been caught early on in their childhood, their mother had not been happy about that one bit and even went as far as separating their bed chambers, posting guards outside their respective rooms and threatened to tell Tywin if they ever dared do something like that again. If she'd survived - something Jaime pondered a lot and he knew Cersei did too - would things have been different? Would they be laying here right now, like this? Would Cersei tolerate Tyrion more? Their whole lives would have been so much different. A horrible feeling would always wash over him, one that he tried to shake as soon as it entered his mind. Had she survived, he knew being with Cersei would not have happened and sometimes (all of the time) he was glad things turned out the way the did because a life without being able to have Cersei was not a life worth living in his eyes. How twisted and cruel, to revel in his own mother's death. All for Cersei.
Silencing his brain with a head shake he contorted his face and slipped out of the bed cautiously, sitting on the edge to get his bearings. They'd taken it slow in the bath, she remained on top the entire time for one of two reasons. One, so that Jaime's sewn flesh wouldn't tear open with exerted movement and two, so that Cersei could stay in control of the act after the trauma she'd endured. Slowly standing, he moved back through to retrieve his trousers and Cersei's robe, shrugging them on before heading back through to the bed chambers and pulling the balcony doors closed and placed her robe on the dresser. He was still sluggish in movement down to his injuries but felt miles better than he had done a day or so ago. Kneeling down by the hearth, he did his best to get a fire roaring and would have been shamed to know that it took Tyrion far less time. Nevertheless, he got a spark and a few pieces of wood later, a nice toasty fire. Moving back to rest on the chair Tyrion had slept in the night before, he sat down with a grunt after looking over at her to make sure she was covered and in no way cold. Her cheeks were still blushed a soft shade of pink. She hadn't moved a muscle since he'd left the warmth of their bed. As soon as he turned back to face the calming flames, he heard the door open quietly. It was Tyrion and, surprisingly, he was marginally sober and still coherent, carrying a tray of food. He was proving himself to be quite a good servant. Jaime looked back at him, noting the wincing face as he tried to close the door as quietly as possible upon seeing Cersei out for the count. Her bare back exposing the dangers they'd faced journeying here. Carefully treading towards the fire he was eager to warm his fingers and face by the crackling flames. He set the tray down on an elegant side table near the fire place and smiled smugly.
"Nice to see you took my advice about fu-"
"Alright, enough with the lewd comments." Jaime interrupted with a warning look.
"No, truly, I'm happy for you both." He smiled even wider and wriggled into the free chair. "I even brought you some more food, they're having quite the feast down there." Jaime could see his brother glancing around the room, looking for a flagon of wine no doubt, almost on cue he spoke again. "I forgot the wine."
"I think you'll survive." He finally smirked back at him. "What have you been doing all day anyway? Drinking and whoring?"
"You wound me with your words." Tyrion mocked as he held his hands out towards the fire, attempting to warm them. "You know me, I like to meet people and hear all their exciting stories." Remarking wistfully, he fixed his gaze back on Jaime's face again. "Speaking of stories, I still haven't heard yours." He could see his brother growing uncomfortable. He waited for Jaime to start detailing their journey but he remained silent. His face stilled completely, the look behind his eyes distant and traumatised causing Tyrion to become serious too. "Tell me, what happened to you both on your way here?" Now that he'd asked in a more genuine, concerned way Jaime felt much more willing to share the awful details.
"It's a long story." He leant forward, grabbing the poker to stab at the burning wood and stoke it up a little.
"So highlight it for me." His younger brother pressed on, all jokes and wise remarks buried and long gone. He showed only genuine care now. "I'll help you, let's see " He started, feigning deep thought. "How did you get out of the crumbling Keep? Who carved your side open? Who locked their hands around our sweet sister's neck so tightly that she's sporting a bruise darker than the night's sky? Why did she carry with her a Dothraki braid longer than both your arms combined?" He listed them off so quickly, Jaime was positive he'd been itching to ask these questions since they arrived. Unable to ask Cersei, he'd waited until now.
"Alright, I get it." Huffing irately, he ran his left hand over his face tiredly, mentally preparing himself for a recount of the last couple of days. "You have a lot of questions, little brother." Jaime turned to look at Cersei, making sure she was still sound asleep before continuing. "The Red Keep fell around us, and I mean around us. Not a single brick touched us, like it was meant to fall that way. So, we escaped the way you'd told me about." There was a pause in his recital. "The boat was completely destroyed by the fire, so we waited for the cover of nightfall before escaping into the Kingswood. Cersei's feet were burnt and bleeding, my side was split open. We didn't have high hopes." He managed a dry smile.
"Wait, you already had the wound? Before the Keep fell?"
"That Ironborn cunt." Jaime repeated again with such venom, Tyrion could have sworn his eyes flickered a darker shade of green. The flames reflecting in them angrily. "He got in my way, I was trying to get inside and he wanted to provoke me with his comments."
"About our sister, no doubt." Tyrion's eyes moved toward the waving flames now too.
Cersei was his brother's strength and weakness at the same time. He'd fight tooth and claw for her, more ferocious than any warrior Tyrion had seen fighting in battle but this rage he felt in order to protect her or be back in her arms would lead him to do terrible things. Unspeakable things that often wouldn't be properly thought through. It would only be afterwards, when consequences followed, that his actions would be questioned. Tyrion wondered if this was why Cersei kept certain details from him, such as Robert's violence towards her. Had Jaime truly known the extent, he surely would have killed him and got himself executed as a result.
Both twins were quick-tempered, not necessarily bad-tempered just extremely quick to anger as was their father. Jaime was far worse than Cersei in this respect, but once his anger passed he could resume life as normal. This was not the case for Cersei. She wouldn't forget and very rarely forgave. Her focus was razor sharp and she was relentlessly determined. Something Tyrion had to be mindful of tomorrow. Jaime ignored the comment his brother had just made and continued on with his retelling of their hellish days travelling to Highgarden.
"I buried my sword right through his belly." He almost smiled at the recollection but seemed to refrain.
"And seemingly he tried to do the same to you." Tyrion's focus landed on Jaime's tender looking sword wound as he spoke, it still looked painful.
"He didn't try hard enough." His older brother stood whilst speaking, moving to grab one of the food plates on the tray. There were only two, leading him to believe Tyrion had eaten his fair share downstairs. He settled himself back in to chair, once again glancing at Cersei before talking. "The Dothraki warrior rode us down whilst crossing the Wendwater river." The words he spoke were dark, full of fury. "Had there been only one more I don't think we'd be sat here having this conversation." Admitting it was a hard feat, Tyrion swallowed hard wondering what that fight might have looked like.
"How did he find you?" His eyes rolled over Jaime's tensing jaw, he'd paused his eating, the mere memory alone was oil pouring on to his flames of anger.
"I have no idea but he recognised us somehow, whether he knew my face from Wintefell or Cersei from the gates of King's Landing." He trailed off. "It doesn't matter either way, he knew who we were. I couldn't let him live. As far as we know, we're assumed to be dead, I couldn't risk that incorrect fact being questioned."
"You fought him and killed him, in this state?" Tyrion almost marvelled, he didn't possess a power like his brother's. Even nearly fatally wounded, with only one hand he could take down a Dothraki fighter. And not just any Dothraki fighter, one with a braid so long he'd most certainly never lost a fight before. And now he was dead.
"I took his head, clean from his shoulders before he could even turn to see me coming but it mattered little. I was too late." His teeth bit together in his mouth, his eyes blackened with such rage he almost looked animalistic. "I was washed down river, I managed to get Cersei on to the bank but the current took me." He swallowed. "When I finally reached them, he'd already ridden her down." Balling his fist violently, he struggled to utter the last of his sentence. "He was raping her. I left her alone and let that happen. I did nothing-"
"What else could you have done?" Tyrion exclaimed, slightly taken aback at the violence they'd faced in their few days reaching Highgarden. He'd suspected some brutality but nothing of this nature. "You did everything you could, Cersei would know that, she knows you'd do anything for her-"
"You've lived alongside them for a long time, with your Mother of Dragons." He halted for a moment, his words cold and resentful. "Have you ever seen a Dothraki man take a mount before?" Ignoring Tyrion's words of reassurance, he questioned his younger brother ruthlessly.
"No, I haven't." He answered lowly, the guilt slowly creeping in. "But I imagine it'd be a rather unpleasant-"
"It's downright brutal." Hissing through his teeth, he finally looked to Tyrion's sorry face. "Do you know how much violence I've seen and inflicted?" He asked rhetorically. "I never lost a wink of sleep over it, but this?" The words seemed to die away before he spoke again. "Every time I close my eyes that's all I can see and hear." The latter of his sentence was breathed a little softer, he'd turned to face his brother and caught a glimpse of Cersei sleeping peacefully, easing his anger away. "She clawed him across the face, a scar he would have carried for life had I not removed his wretched head. A small part of me wishes he'd lived and taken the token back to the rest of his savages, a reminder of what happens when you try to dominate a lioness." A wave of soundlessness creeped over them temporarily and Tyrion, staying true to character, broke it after only a minute or so.
"That makes sense now." His cryptic sentence caused Jaime to throw him a questioning look, forcing him to elaborate. "I bumped into Maester Garron earlier, he said she'd refused to let him touch her, never mind examine her." He watched his brother's stare intensify into the fire, awful thoughts plaguing his mind. "What happened was not your fault, you know this don't you?"
"It happened on my watch-"
"You were being swept down river with a gaping wound to your side!" Tyrion exclaimed, desperate to soothe his brother's anger but it was falling on deaf ears. He so clearly blamed himself and would continue to do so for a very long time, if not forever. A stark silence fell between them, only the spitting of the fire and the falling rain filled in the quietness. He tried to empathise with Jaime but he could never truly know how it would feel. Thinking of Shae, he reworked his memory and attempted to imagine what he'd do in the same situationbut his own heartbreak wouldn't let him see past how she'd betrayed him. On that awfully morbid thought, he left the room only temporarily in search of more wine, leaving Jaime to finish his food in a sombre silence.
The moment he swallowed the last mouthful of oatbread, he found himself staring at her again from across the room. Her soft breathing moved the fur throw up and down gently. Allowing his eyes to roll over her, he wondered if their unborn babe truly was alright. He didn't have that inner feeling of knowing like a mother did but the constant pondering was quite painful for him. Grabbing her plate of food, he put it down on the stand by his side of the bed before re-joining her on the feather-filled sheets. Tracing his finger up and down her spine soothingly, he felt at home whenever their skin came into contact. She didn't stir at first, but eventually her bare back started to arch under his soft touch before she turned to face him slowly. The throw abandoned her front, leaving her chest exposed as she now lay facing him, her eyes still heavy with sleep.
"Tyrion brought you some food, you need to eat." He spoke softly, the adoration in his eyes made her stomach flutter. Her small hand gripped at his where it lay in the centre of the bed once he'd stopped the comforting tracing and their fingers interlaced effortlessly. She stared down at their married palms before the noise of the door opening threw Jaime into reflex mode. Tugging at the throw, he covered her front before their brother could lay eyes on her.
"Two flagons of wine!" He celebrated upon entering, a victory he was keen to share with them, their last night together but the feeling wasn't mutual. Setting the flagons down on the top of the dresser, he started pouring a glass and turned to look at his siblings before cringing. "Oh Gods, I was interrupting something wasn't I?"
"No." Jaime managed to growl without sounding too harassed by his near constant comments. Must they always be up to no good when left alone? It was a damaging assumption, technically it was kind of true, but still damaging. "Haven't you had enough wine for one night, you're only a sma-"
"Do not finish that sentence, I am warning you." Tyrion bellowed with a stern stare. "I may be small in stature, but I could out drink you any time, any place."
"As much as I'd love to prove you wrong, little brother, I could think of better ways to spend - what could potentially be - my last night alive." He watched Tyrion pour another glass, a part of him did doubt his chances at beating him in all honesty. He drank a lot for someone of even Jaime's size, let alone his own height.
"Message received, loud and clear, I shall enjoy this alone in a very hot bath." Making his way over to the bathroom archway, he spoke once more. "Bronn has finally found it in his heart to find me my own room, after a great deal of begging." He sighed. "I'll wake you at first light, so be ready." Upon reaching the door, he turned to face them. "I don't know how it will go tomorrow, but please just trust me." Satisfied with Jaime's nod, he merely got an unmoving stare from Cersei, her face rarely betrayed her feelings unless she was utterly vexed. The door closed quietly behind him, leaving a sense of dread lingering in the air.
Cersei ate her meal of oatbread, potted hare and olives. A small feast but enough to satiate her hunger, it was still mildly warm and a lot more enjoyable than badger stew. Whilst she dined in bed, Jaime had started redressing his wound, his one hand struggling to get the silk to do as he wanted. She watched him for a few seconds. He was perched on the edge of the bed, his broad and muscular back facing her. Not able to watch him fumbling any longer, she slid herself across the sheets, her warm hands helping him to wrap the bandages silently. He didn't jump at her touch this time because he'd heard her movements.
"Almost as painful as watching you try to tie your boot when we were younger." She whispered with a smile, her naked front only centimetres from the skin on his back. The moment the bandages were secured, he turned to shield her protectively despite the danger of Tyrion interrupting long gone. Her lips grazed his briefly before he crawled forwards, forcing her to lay down beneath him. He finally came to a stop, his body suspended over hers, not without strain as his side throbbed uncomfortably. Her palms reached up for his face, rubbing at his beard whilst her thumb traced his lower lip. He'd been watching her eyes and the entire time hers studied his mouth wantonly. Eventually he let his gaze wander lower, the delicateness of her neck, still beautiful beneath the harsh bruising, her dainty collarbones, her rounded breasts. Everything about her was driving him into a lust-filled frenzy. "How would you like spend your last night alive then, if not drinking with Tyrion?" The question fell from her lips beautifully, her eyes scanning his face for an answer.
"In the arms of the woman I love." He kissed her deeply but fleetingly before pulling back much to her sadness, it was too much weight on his wounded ribs. He climbed off her with a pained grunt and perched himself back on the edge of the bed.
The sheets moved behind him as she climbed off the other side, stark naked, scooping her robe from the top of the dresser and throwing it around herself. Wrapping it across her middle, she tied it loosely. The fabric billowed behind her as she made her way around the bed frame. coming to a stop in front of him, she positioned herself between his legs. Her palms brushed over his shoulders, the left one wrapping around the width of them across his upper back whilst her right snaked it's way up the back of his head, her fingers buried in his hair as she hugged him close to her abdomen. She could feel his hand holding on to the back of her thigh through the material of the robe, the side of his head pressed lovingly into the swell of her stomach. Letting his eyes close, he couldn't help but enjoy the moment. In her arms just like he'd said. Suddenly opening his lids again, he had to remain still to make sure he wasn't imagining it as she looked down at him lovingly. Leaning back, he moved his left hand to rest where his head had just been, her right palm covering his to press more firmly. It was so, so faint he almost couldn't feel the faint movement.
"Is that-"
"Our baby." She smiled sadly through her words at his ecstatic face. The growing worry of tomorrow looming ahead.
The sun made an appearance early the next morning. The rainy earth steaming in its presence as it peeked over the hills, shining an array of yellow and orange light in the distance. Their fire had burnt out during the night, the room now entertaining a chill in the air as the pair lay wrapped together in the centre of the bed beneath the sheets. She'd woken earlier than him, he'd tossed and turned more than usual, keeping her awake but she felt as though she wouldn't have slept anyway. Tracing her index finger over his lips she woke him gently from his slumber.
"I was hoping the morning wouldn't come." His husky voice cracked between them, uttering her own thoughts perfectly. She'd wanted the night to live on forever too but instead they faced uncertainty today. There was no telling what would happen but with no allies, no armies, no other help aside from Tyrion, they'd stand completely alone before Jon Snow.
"If he sends us back to her, I'd sooner die by your hand-"
"Don't." He cut her off with a worried frown, not even willing to entertain the idea of killing her and their unborn child.
"Is this what it's like? Before you go off to fight? The deep breath before the plunge." The green of her eyes burned brightly in the light of the rising sun as she awaited an answer. It took him a moment, pondering on how the two feelings compared. But they didn't.
"No." He whispered gently. "This is worse."
They remained nestled together for a few more minutes, both trying to resist the inevitable and stay intertwined the way they were for the rest of their days but reality came crashing through the door in the form of Tyrion. With absolutely no regard for their privacy and no care for whether or not they were still asleep.
"Jon will be arriving any moment." He breathed, his nerves evident in the shake of his voice. "I'll speak to him alone first and depending on how that goes..." Trailing off he finally turned to look at his siblings. "I don't really know."
"You don't know? You don't have a plan?" Jaime's eyes narrowed as he sat up, still nursing his wound with a grimace.
"Tell me, when have I ever had a plan, Jaime?" The silence spoke volumes. "I talked my way out of a sky cell at the Eerie, how many people do you think have managed that?" He asked, knowing the answer was none. "I have a way with words. I understand people, which is why I beg of you both today do not speak." Pleading desperately, he turned his stare to Cersei. "Guard your tongue. As much as you want to argue or fight with anything being said, do not." She didn't respond, she hated how he spoke to her sometimes. Like she was stupid. This thought had already entered her mind and for the sake of their unborn babe she knew to bite her tongue before he'd so arrogantly instructed her to. "As soon as I've spoke to him and we've cleared things up, I'll head back to King's Landing."
Cersei did not trust this one bit. Her insides were squirming but what could she do? Exhaling slowly, she looked to Jaime for some sort of reassurance. He appeared just as worried as she felt. Nevertheless, Lannisters were proud people, all three of them would have their most stoic faces on as soon as Snow arrived. Tyrion could talk away his fear, Jaime could pass it off as cockiness and Cersei could still her face so much that nobody could ever know what she was feeling. Even Jaime sometimes, if she tried hard enough. She didn't cringe away from Robert Baratheon's violent blows, nor the wight that had launched itself at her in the dragon pit and she certainly wouldn't cringe in the presence of Jon Snow. She was as calm as a still lake with no breeze, but beneath the surface she ran deep into unknown depths, dark, cold and terrifying.
Soon after, Tyrion left them and busied himself with pacing and thinking aloud in his own ransacked room. Cersei and Jaime dressed and found themselves sat in silence, just waiting on the edge of doom. Their misery extinguished and their panic ignited as soon as they heard the distant sound of slow travelling hooves.
He was here.
